My second opponent was the senior that had tried to bully me in the hallway a few days ago; that had tried to instigate me to fight her so that I would be disqualified from the competition.
She was prancing around the field like an overzealous proud horse, getting cheers from the crowd. I thought she looked hilarious. I was going to win her. That was a given; not because I was proud, but because I had no choice. I had no choice than to make her eat her words, than to make her regret troubling me that fateful day.
My quiet demeanor was mirrored by Rachel and her family. At intervals, I looked at the people in the crowd, at the Queen, at her. It was as if they knew that the senior was making noise. A noise that was uncalled for. Rachel, especially, had a bored look on her face. She knew I would win, never mind that it wouldn't be pleasing to her.
